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Updated: Jan 3

On January 27, 2023, my mother died.

She was 103 years old. She was 26 days shy of reaching 104.

During the week of April 10, 2023, it was reported that a Ukrainian soldier was beheaded by members of a pro-Russia mercenary group.

These two examples can be seen as extreme versions of death.

If I can view the earth from standing on the moon, I can also see both deaths from a different scale. Two cells have died amidst a plethora of many cells living and some cells dying. The former remains in the majority, the latter in the minority.

Lights blinking on and off.

Whether cells are living or dying, they are doing so effectively.

We are a conglomeration of cells.

We are a conglomeration of effectiveness.

From my catbird seat on the moon, what I see on the earth is blinking, morphing, flowing, expanding, contracting effectiveness.

I see unity. 

I see harmony.

Not my unity.


Not my harmony.


I can't be separate from what I see.

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